


Possessive Streak

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bottom Isaac Lahey, Established Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Stiles is possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Isaac got into a fight and Isaac is so totally done with this whole 'not touching' thing Stiles started because of it. Basically an excuse to write smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possessive Streak

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write smut and it was suggested I write rough angry Scisaac smut. This is the result.

Stiles was possessive. That was something Isaac found out right off the bat. He was possessive and jealous and petty and it was absolutely a new sensation to see someone get so _riled_  simply because someone was flirting with him. It wasn't a bad sensation, it was just new. It was amusing to him, to see Stiles practically crawl out of his skin when a girl or guy smiled at him just so, or brushed against him a second too long. The sex that followed was never a bad thing either.

But right now, Isaac was going to use that possessive streak to his advantage.

They'd argued. Over something stupid, but Stiles was Stiles and Stiles, like he said, was petty. Stiles had cut off all physical affection, not even allowing hand-holding. For two weeks, according to the calendar in the apartment they now shared. The human had even sent him packing to the couch. And Isaac was _long_ past the point of putting up with it.

So he had a plan, and it was now being put into action as he leaned against the wall at the party Lydia was throwing for some reason or another. People were smiling and flirting at him, and he was doing so back. He was chatting now with some girl, pretty sure but not his type, though she didn’t need to know that, and he could practically _feel_ Stiles’s glare on his skin. Her hand came up to brush his arm, almost settling there, and that was the last straw.

“Excuse me.”

Stiles smiled at the girl, but his arm was gripping Isaac’s, fingers digging in, and there were too many teeth showing for it to be polite.

“I need to talk to Isaac for a minute.”

And then he was moving, dragging the wolf behind him through Lydia’s house until they found an empty bedroom with a lock and he shoved him into it, slamming the door behind them and _attacking_ Isaac’s mouth. Bony hips ground into his and fingers clawed across him, leaving red raised skin behind that quickly healed. When they finally pulled apart, Isaac was panting and Stiles was flushed, head pressed against his chest and a snarl pulling his plush lips apart.

“Fuck I hate you. I hate you so much. Fucking letting them _touch_ you. Got their hands all over you. All the wolves can probably smell them on you. Instead of _me_. You’re _mine_ Isaac, no one else’s. I know why you’re doing this. I know. I hate you and I know. You fucking _need_ me to touch you don’t you? Well I’m gonna remind you _exactly_ who you belong to and you’re not gonna come until I _make_ you, begging and sobbing for me.”

He shivered. Fuck, he _loved_ it when Stiles started swearing, got possessive and rough, dirty talk ringing in his ears. His hips ground forward against his mole-flecked lover and he gasped at the feel of bitten rough nails grabbing onto them and digging in, _clawing_ at him, stopping him. Isaac whined, earning a growl that was far too rough for it to be normal coming from a human.

“Stiles...Stiles, _please_.”

“Shut up.”

Shirts were gone. Not just removed, _gone_. Isaac had no idea where they went. And when did they wind up on the bed again? He didn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. Not with the way Stiles was straddled atop him, attacking his nipples with ferocious fervor, not stopping until he was screaming, grinding up at thin air in hopes of friction his evil evil boyfriend wouldn’t give. Those blunt nails dragged over his spit-slicked nipples, down over his chest, all the way down to his boxers, pants apparently gone as well, and then back up again. Stiles’s name poured from his mouth like a mantra until his teeth sunk into his shoulder hard enough to bruise for a few seconds, sending him stuttering to a stop on a cry.

“You better have lube or something or I swear to _fuck_ I’m gonna bring you out there and fuck you on spit for everyone to see.”

And that _really_ should not have been as much of a turn on but it was and Isaac keened, clawing at Stiles, feeling skin catch but not break, and the teeth were back on the other side of his shoulders and hips were finally gloriously rutting back against his and that finally shocked him into speaking.

“Pants there’s some in my pants Stiles god please I can’t--”

Stiles silenced him with a sharp kiss full of tongue and teeth, swallowing his moans before utterly disappearing, tormenting him with the sudden absolute lack of anything until he returned, yanking at Isaac’s boxers roughly. After a moment of struggling that would’ve been hilarious had Stiles not spent the time biting over his skin, he was finally naked and he noticed that Stiles was now as well.

For a second, they just stared at each other, Stiles’s bright amber eyes still sparking with fury and possessiveness, Isaac knowing his were lust-glazed and glowing. Long fingers stroked him, just for half a second, then flipped him over. Isaac knew he could stop Stiles if he wanted to, but he didn’t, letting himself fall onto his stomach and keening when suddenly he was being pulled back on his knees and Stiles’s tongue was lapping over his entrance, wet and filthy and edged with teeth whenever he pulled back to nip at his ass. Sounds he couldn’t even describe were being punched out of him as Stiles worked over his hole until it finally relaxed open for him, tongue delving deep inside and sending electricity crackling over his spine as he fucked him open with his tongue.  Vaguely, he heard the ripping of the packet of lube and then there were two slicked fingers pressing in beside the tongue and he would have been so proud of himself for buying the edible kind had he not been totally and utterly distracted by the _stretch_ that was suddenly there as Stiles kept working him with his tongue and now his fingers, scissoring into him and almost instantly finding his sweet spot, relentlessly pressing against it until he was sobbing and begging and clawing holes in the sheets, face pushed into a pillow to muffle the sounds. Stiles’s mouth pulled away and the hand that wasn’t buried deep in him, three fingers now, hit him hard on the ass, making him jerk and rock back.

“Don’t hide. I want everyone to hear you. Want everyone to know you’re _mine_. I’m the only one who can make you fall apart.”

“Stiles _please_ …”

“Tell me what you want pup.”

“Want you to fuck me...Fuck Stiles I need your cock so bad…”

“Good pup.”

And shit if that didn’t make him preen on a ridiculous level. He loved it when Stiles complimented him. There was something psychological behind that, he knew, but those thoughts were shoved roughly from his mind when suddenly the fingers were gone and Stiles’s bare slick cock was sliding into his ridiculously open and eager hole, nails biting into his hips and holding him in place until he was all the way inside, filling Isaac in such a way that made him ache as he remembered how _long_ it’d been. He’d missed this so much. Stiles in him, filling him, giving him everything and taking just as much.

For a minute, Stiles remained there, head pressed in between his strong shoulder blades. But the moment he felt Isaac was accommodated enough, he rocked back, starting up an immediately punishing rhythm, hard and fast and unrelenting, relishing in his unsmothered moans and screams, nipping and scratching over his back. His mouth came down onto his neck, biting another healing mark before whispering in his ear, barely audible over his sounds.

“God you’re so fucking pretty like this. So undone, so open and eager for me. My Isaac. All mine. Gonna make you come baby. Gonna make you come like this, all from my cock.”

The rhythm changed then, aiming straight for his prostate and not letting up, slamming into it over and over until everything was static and white and he was so desperate, incoherent and begging, crying out his name.

Teeth bit down on the shell of his ear and growled.

“Come.”

He exploded, clenching down hard around his lover and screaming, painting the bed and his chest, nearly up to his neck, white and sticky with his come. A few thrusts later Stiles was coming in him, filling him with warmth, and they collapsed onto the bed, into the puddle without a care, basking in the afterglow.

After a minute, Stiles pulled out, shifting them and pulling him against him once they were on their sides, onto the drier part of the bed. Stiles kissed over his ear, nuzzling into his hair.

“I’m still mad at you.”

Isaac broke down into a laugh.

“I love you too.”


End file.
